Her eyes widened slightly. "Excuse me?"
"We need to talk,” I moved closer, my eyes locked on hers, "about us."
"There is no us."
"Liar." I reached the bed and took her laptop, closed it, then set it aside. "There's been an us since I saw you. You know it. I know it. Stop pretending otherwise."
She scoffed. "You're only saying that because you need me to marry you."
"No. I'm saying it because it's the truth." I sat on the edge of the bed, close enough to touch her but not quite. "I love you, Shanice. I'm in love with you. And I'm done pretending that's not what this is about."
She stared at me, her breath catching. "You don't mean that."
"Yes, I do." I moved closer, crowding into her space. "I love the way you fight back when I tell you what to do. I love the way you sing in the shower. I love how fierce you are, how loyal, how strong. I love that you've been through hell and you're still standing. I love that you make pink your bitch every time that you wear it. I love that your face lights up when I surprise you. I love everything about you."
"Mikhail, stop." She backed away and I followed.
"Why? Because hearing it scares you? Because it means this is real and not just some transaction?" I cupped her face, forcing her to look at me. "I love you. And I want to marry you. Not because I have to. Because I choose to."
Tears welled in her eyes. "How am I supposed to believe that?"
"Because I'm going to prove it." I leaned in, my lips brushing against hers. "Right now."
I kissed her, hard, deep, and claiming. She made a sound in the back of her throat, her hands coming up to push at my chest, but I caught them, pinning them at her sides.
"No," I murmured against her mouth. "You don't get to push me away anymore. You don't get to pretend you don't want this."
"I hate you," she gasped.
"No, you don't." I kissed down her jaw, her neck, biting hard enough to leave marks. "You hate that you want me. That's different."
I released her hands and pushed her back onto the bed, following her down. She was breathing hard, her eyes dark with desire, anger, and something that looked like fear.
"Tell me to stop," I said, my hands moving to the hem of her shirt. "Tell me you don't want this, and I'll walk away right now."
She opened her mouth, but no words came out.
"That's what I thought." I pulled her shirt over her head, tossing it aside. She wasn't wearing a bra, and the sight of her bare breasts made my mouth water.
"You're so fucking beautiful," I murmured, lowering my head to take one nipple into my mouth.
She arched off the bed with a cry, her hands flying to my hair. I sucked hard, then bit down gently, making her gasp.
"Mikhail, please…"
"Please what?" I moved to her other breast, giving it the same attention. "Please stop? Please keep going? Use your words, baby."
"I don't know," she sobbed. "I don't know what I want."
"Yes, you do." I kissed down her stomach, my hands hooking into the waistband of her pajama pants. "You want me. You want this. You're just too stubborn to admit it."
I pulled her pants and underwear off in one swift motion, spreading her legs wide. The sight of her, bare, wet, and wanting, made me groan.
"Look at you," I murmured, running my finger through her folds. "Already so wet for me. Your body knows what it wants, even if your brain won't admit it."
"Mikhail, no…"
I would’ve backed away and stopped, but she spread her legs further open, inviting me inside.
